


Collision of Worlds

by EmmaTheRevelator (BadWolf1988)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Family, Modern Royalty, Politics, Romance, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:56:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolf1988/pseuds/EmmaTheRevelator
Summary: She was the uniquely monikered daughter of the President of the United States. He was the unfortunately named Prince of Spain. She was a Baptist. His family were strict Catholics.Thrown together by duty and politics, this romance can't have a happy ending, can it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If this story seems awfully familiar to the fanfiction story, Harry and Hermione, there is a good reason for that. I wrote that one too. Collision of Worlds is the original re-write of that story. This story now features a cast of entirely original characters and is not considered fanfiction in any way. Don't let the names Hermione and Draco fool you. Neither one has ever attended Hogwarts.
> 
> Before we get started, I'd like to say a big thank you to Meghan (Christlove88) for beta reading this story for me.

**Author's Note:** _If this story seems awfully familiar to the fanfiction story, Harry and Hermione, there is a good reason for that. I wrote that one too. Collision of Worlds is the original re-write of that story. This story now features a cast of entirely original characters and is not considered fanfiction in any way. Don't let the names Hermione and Draco fool you. Neither one has ever attended Hogwarts._

_Before we get started, I'd like to say a big thank you to Meghan (Christlove88) for beta reading this story for me._

  
  


Hermione spent her Saturday morning lounging on the couch in the living room of the house that she shared with her older sister, Eden, and watching television. The previous night, she and Eden had decided to order pizza, pop in Dogma, and have a few drinks. A few drinks turned into a few more for Eden, and, as usual, she passed out before Jay and Silent Bob even got stoned for the first time.

So, while Eden slept it off – it had been a real chore getting her into bed – Hermione found herself laying on the couch watching CNN. The news coverage was, of course, dominated by coverage of the Spanish royal wedding. She really didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It wasn't even the heir to the throne that was getting married. It was his younger brother Infante (she had no idea what that title meant) Rafael... whose name she couldn't help but giggle at because it reminded her of a Ninja Turtle.

Hermione guessed all the media attention (which was of William and Catherine proportions) had a lot to do with a sad moment in the monarchy's history from 1999. That was the year that Queen Cassandra of Spain, mother of Infante Rafael and his older brother, Prince Draco of Asturias, took her own life. Just like with Princes William and Harry after the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997, the public wanted to see Queen Cassandra's sons get their happily ever after in what had become a twisted and sad fairy tale.

Why did Hermione find herself thinking so much about the Spanish royal family? Well, it had nothing to do with the ‘Wedding of the Decade’, as the press had dubbed it. It had to do with the fact that Prince Draco of Asturias was due to make a brief tour of the United States in two weeks time and her father had informed her that she would be the one hosting the reception to welcome him to the White House.

You see, Hermione's father was President William James. In the third year of his first term in office, he was highly rated in public opinion polls and seemed a shoe in for re-election. It was almost about time to hit the campaign trail again and she knew that her father's idea to have her host the reception for Prince Draco was nothing more than a PR stunt. While a good man, her father was still a politician at heart and not above such tricks. The image of the President's young, blonde daughter with her private school education and practiced pose welcoming the exotic-looking prince of one of America's strongest allies would make for great press and her father knew it. Too bad he didn't seem to know how terrified she was at the prospect. She was a junior at Georgetown University where she was studying to get her B.A. in non-profit management. She planned on joining her older sister working for the family's charity, The James Foundation. The foundation provided grants and assistance to start-up charities. They also provided rescue grants to charities in danger of closing their doors. When she wasn't at school or studying, she volunteered at a local soup kitchen and taught Sunday School at her family's church. She enjoyed craft fairs and folk music (Joan Baez was her girl). What would she have in common with a freaking prince, President's daughter or not?

She really needed to ask Eden for some advice but she had a feeling that her sister was going to be too hungover to be of any real help that day.

As if cued by some invisible director, Hermione's musings were interrupted by her older sister flying out of her bedroom like a bat out of hell.

“Why the hell didn't you wake me up?!” Eden growled at her as she attempted to zip up the side of her dress. Hermione debated over whether or not she should tell her sister that her jet-black hair looked as though she had stuck her finger in a light socket. Seeing the deranged look in sister's eyes, she decided against it. “And why aren't you dressed?! We've already missed church, mother will kill us if we're late for tea!” Eden continued to rant.

Hermione finally figured out what was going on. Eden was so hungover that she thought it was Sunday, not Saturday. Both young women went to their mother's weekly Ladies' Tea (so Edwardian era) at noon on Sundays. She chuckled. “Because it's Saturday dumbass, not Sunday.”

Eden ceased her frantic attempts to dress and glared at her. Hermione burst out laughing.

“I hate you!” Eden stormed back into her room and slammed the door behind her.

Still laughing, and momentarily forgetting her problems, Hermione got up to go and make her older sister some coffee.

 

 

[ **_MY WEBSITE_ ** ](http://www.badwolfrose.com)

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione slowly walked to the Oval Office as though she was a death-row inmate headed to the gas chamber. Her father had summoned her. He wanted to discuss the reception for Prince Draco that was scheduled to take place the following day. She was – to put it mildly – freaking the hell out.

Just as she had done for every visiting diplomat, politician, and royal, Hermione had done her homework. She read up on the Spanish royal family, and on Prince Draco himself, and she was really wishing that she hadn't when all was said and done. Reading about Prince Draco's childhood and the close relationship that he had with his late mother, Queen Cassandra, broke her heart into a million little pieces. He had only been seventeen when she took her own life. When she had continued to read, she learned that Prince Draco had served six years with the Spanish Air Force and had seen action in Iraq. Once he left the military, he had taken on a life of public service. AID's research and mental health awareness were two causes that seemed to be close to his heart. In the end, Hermione had come away from her reading with what could only be described as a schoolgirl crush on the prince. It didn't help that at 6'1, he was very fit with dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and dimples. He looked like something that Michelangelo had carved with the face of a GQ model.

Arriving at the open door of the Oval Office (that came complete with two scary looking Secret Service agents standing on either side), she took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Her father sat at the famous Resolute Desk, his brown eyes scanning the top page of a large stack of documents that sat in front of him. The light from the afternoon sun shone on him making his grey hair almost glow.

“Dad?” she got his attention.

President James looked up and smiled at his youngest daughter. “Come in, sweetpea, and close the door.” He got to his feet.

Hermione did as she was instructed. “You wanted to see me?” She took a seat on one of the two sofas that graced his office.

Her father nodded. “I wanted to discuss the details of tomorrow's arrival ceremony.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So,” President James rubbed his hands together as he leaned back against his desk, his legs crossed at the ankle. “Prince Draco will be arriving on the South Lawn via helicopter at two and I will be the first to greet him. I will lead him to the Rose Garden where you, your mother, sister, and the household staff will be waiting. I will go down the line, introducing everyone and I'll have you go last. I will introduce you as the prince's hostess for the duration of his stay – ”

“Wait a minute!” Hermione interrupted her father's play by play. “Stay? I thought that the prince was only staying for the reception and then leaving?” If she had been freaking out before, she was having a full-blown nervous breakdown now. She had been under the assumption that she only had to endure Prince Draco's presence for an evening, no longer. “How long will he be staying for?”

“One week,” her father held up a single finger. “He's requested to tour Andrews Airforce Base and the U.S. Naval Academy. He'll also be doing some work with a number of veteran’s charities while he's in the country.”

“But I'll only be his hostess for the welcome reception and public events, right?” Hermione already knew the answer but still, she prayed for a miracle.

“No, you'll be his hostess for his entire stay,” her father eyed her sternly. “I'd like you to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom for the next week if you don't mind.” Oh, she most certainly the hell did mind but she knew she couldn't tell her father that. It may have sounded like a request but Hermione took it for the order that it was. “Now may I continue?” The tone of his voice dared her to interrupt him again.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded.

“As I was saying, I'll introduce you as Prince Draco's hostess for his stay,” he stressed the word. “You will show him to the Queen's Bedroom where he will be staying. At five, you will be his escort to the reception. You’ll be his companion at all meals and public events. You will also be there to see him off next week at the airport. Have I made myself in any way unclear?”

“No, sir.” Hermione shook her head dejectedly.

“Than I would advise you to go home and pack. I'll see you at dinner tonight, sweetpea.” President James walked over and kissed her on the forehead.

Hermione wasn't an idiot. She knew when she had been dismissed.

 

 

**_[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) _ **


	3. Chapter 3

When Hermione arrived back at the townhouse that she shared with Eden on N Street in Georgetown, she must have truly looked like hell because her older sister showed true alarm upon seeing her.

“What's wrong?” Eden rushed over to her. She seemed to be on a cleaning kick if the yellow rubber gloves she was wearing and the smell of Pinesol in the air was anything to go off of.

“Prince Draco is going to be staying for an entire week and dad wants me to stay in the Lincoln Bedroom and be his hostess for his entire stay,” Hermione explained in a rather monotone voice as she hung her purse and jacket up on the hooks by the front door.

“What's wrong with that?” Eden asked. “You’ve played hostess for dad before,” she added as she began to scrub at the rose papered living room walls with a sponge.

“I have a little bit of a crush on Prince Draco.” Hermione pinched her fingers together in front of her face.

Eden laughed. “Still not seeing a problem, sissy. You get to spend a week hanging out with your celebrity crush. Many women would kill to do that.” She added more of the pine-scented cleaner to her bucket of water. All Hermione could smell was pine trees and lemon.

At this point, Eden's odd cleaning habits just could no longer be ignored. “What the hell are you doing? We just had the walls papered last month and the cleaning lady was here yesterday.”

Eden blushed. “Nico and the kids will be here for a visit tomorrow,” she admitted.

Nico Hart was Eden's online-boyfriend. He was a single father and reality television star. Eden had had a crush on him for years and had started writing fanfiction about him. Nico had found her stories online and the two of them had fallen into a relationship of sorts over the last few months. Looks like they were finally taking that last step to make their relationship real.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from laughing. “Eden, the man has three children. He's used to messes and chaos. He's not going to notice if there's a spot of dirt on the walls,” she pointed out.

Eden blushed even redder. “Shut up! I'm nervous, okay?”

Yeah, Hermione could totally relate but unlike her older sister, who already knew that Nico cared about her, she was going into her meeting with Prince Draco completely blind. What if they ended up hating each other? With her luck, she would end up screwing up somehow and setting American/Spanish relations back hundreds of years!

“Hey!” Eden smacked her arm. “Get out of your head. I'm supposed to be the anxious sister. No stealing my gig.”

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _

 


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione wondered if it was too late to pretend that she was sick as she sat nervously on the edge of the wooden bed in the Lincoln Bedroom of the White House. Dressed in an emerald green cocktail dress that stopped at her knees and silver flats, she was compulsively watching the antique clock that sat on the fireplace mantel in front of the gilded mirror. 1:47... her doom was at hand. Yes, she knew she was being dramatic. She just didn't care.

She had never been taken with a celebrity before, royal or non-royal. She had been too young to care about the late nineties boyband craze and, until a few weeks ago, she thought that falling for someone you had never met was ridiculous.

“Time to go, 'Mione.”

Hermione jumped. She hadn't even noticed Eden walk in. She took a deep breath and stood up. Anxiously, she ran a hand down her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. She could do this. “Small curtsey, 'your royal highness', and then 'sir,'” she began repeating over and over again as Eden laughed while they made their way towards the door. At lunch that afternoon, her father had explained that while he was not allowed to bow to Prince Draco, the Crown Prince of a foreign nation, her, her mother, and sister were expected to. At the end of the day, America and Spain were allies after all. Hermione had been reading the protocol sheet that had been sent ahead by the palace all day. It was all rather simple but she was convinced that she would screw something up and cause an international incident.

“Hermione, you really need to chill out,” Eden sounded concerned as they made their way through the White House and towards the doors that led to the Rose Garden. “Prince Draco's just a person. A person who hit the genetic lottery but still just a person.”

“You cried when you saw Nico standing at the front porch this morning!” she accused her sister. “What do you know about being calm around someone you like?”

“Well, I'm completely fine now,” Eden brushed off her outburst... probably because she wanted to forget that it had ever happened. “And I feel stupid for ever being scared of Nico.”

They made it to the Rose Garden and took their places beside their mother in the receiving line just as a helicopter could be heard touching down in the distance. They waited for what felt like forever until, finally, a Secret Service agent opened the glass doors that led to the Rose Garden and the telltale sounds of footsteps could be heard coming their way. Her father appeared, with Prince Draco at his side, just a few short moments later.

The prince was dressed in a dark navy suit with no tie and the collar unbuttoned. As her father went down the line, introducing everyone, she tried to avert her eyes as much as possible. The less she looked, the better.

Hermione was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice when her father came to stand directly in front of her.

“Your Royal Highness, I'd like you to meet your hostess for your stay, my daughter, Hermione. Hermione, I'd like to introduce you to Prince Draco of Asturias.”

 

 

_**[MY WEBSITE](http://www.badwolfrose.com) ** _

 


End file.
